Wednesday...

.. and, they have begun showing up... heh... time to shoot some pool, and get the kinks out.... later, people...

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Reefer-flavored Booze..

... not that it really floats MY boat, but I do happen to know that some of you gentle ones enjoy the vile weed... you know who you are.... I take it that a trip to Eastern Europe is in order?...

"Czechs Roll Out Marijuana Flavored Liquor - Alcoholic Drinks Maker in Czech Republic Launches Marijuana Flavored Liquor"

... go forth and read with delight, kiddies... glad to be of service.... heh....

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Home Alone...

... you ever have a true moment of inspiration?... or, maybe true boredom?... I just did... what made me have this sudden calling?.... the mundane, people.... ironing.... I have always hated it... sure, I've often coerced unfortunates to do it for me... but, no one ever manages to get my creases right... and, we've gotsta have our creases.... so, I am cursed for the rest of my living days to press my own damn shirts.... life's a real bitch sometimes....

... anyway, to the point.... the other day, I needed a shirt to wear while I was carshopping... my Hippies Smell tee-shirt just wouldn't have created the right look.... after all, who wants to show up at the dealership looking like a 31 year old guy wearing a tee-shirt.. so, I decided I would press a few button-ups...... amongst the pile of stuff I decided to iron, I found a treasure.. my old formal evening shirt... you know, the kind normally worn with a tuxedo or kilt.... heh... what did I do?.... I ironed the bastard...

... and now, here I sit... tuxedo clad.... searching through the DVD collection for something to entertain myself with... what did I find, gentle ones?.... well, two, actually.... Casablanca, and Dr. No... both seem suitable fodder.... I watched Bogie and Bergman a few weeks ago.. but, perhaps then I was being mean in my initial commentary... maybe my jealous side was showing.... maybe tonight I will see it differently, and it would be all touchingl.... but, as for the second movie of the night.... well, who could miss a chance to gaze upon Ursula, eh?.. yeah, I thought so... and, maybe a Martini thrown in for good measure...

... whatever the case, I am damn determined to enjoy myself this evening... the tux has been draped suitably over my bones.. the Macintosh cufflinks have been shined, and are fixed on the sleeve.. and, as I write this, I am drinking Scotch directly from the bottle.... after all, I'm planning on watching Casablanca first... the thoughts of drinking cocktails Bond.. James friggin Bond style.. well, it has a certain appeal.. but, by the time Connery comes onto the screen, I don't feel that what I'm drinking, or my attire will add much to the situation..

... after all, Honey Ryder is what we're waiting on.. right?.. and, before you know it, even SHE will have come and gone... Ilsa will have cried... Rick will have murdered.... and, Victor will have flown the coop... and, Honey will still be a 68 year old Grandmother.... damn, why do I even bother.. I'm depressing the hell out of myself... still, I must give it a shot... after all, I AM all dressed up.....

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(6)
» Gut Rumbles links with: the tuxedo

Quote of the Day...

... ""We got a call and checked out the site and realised that the turds were far too big to come from horses. It had to be elephants," said police spokesman Wolfgang Heimann."...

... they skipped town.. and left all thier crap behind ... evidently....

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All is lost..

... sitting here now... quite content in the security of the blogroom... seeking shelter from the evil powers of the "Lifetime Movie Network".. I hear a *click*... and.. another *click*.... and, THEN what sound suddenly tweaks my ears?.... what new torture awaits me for this evening's entertainment?.... what new Hell is awaiting me?... words simply cannot express, gentle readers.... I am hearing the Sponge Bob Square Pants Song being sung in a Scottish out-of-key lilt... Dear God.... please, somebody.... just go ahead and shoot me now.... if she breaks out the ABBA DVD, you'll read about me on America's Most Wanted in the morning.... I do have a plan, though.... so, have no fear.. I'll be tending bar... while sporting a false mustache.... in a Costa Rican topless establishment 36 hours from now.... damn, my life is just so fucking WEIRD sometimes....

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True Lust...

.. well, I knew it was bound to happen.. yep, I have another admirer.. heh... although, it has to be a photoshop'd deal... I'd NEVER be caught dead wearing a RED thong.. it would clash with my hair....

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Intimidation...

... some people are hard to intimidate.... you get in their face, and regardless of how musclebound you are, you're gonna get whacked.... that's what it's all about, people... I won't back down... and, neither will my friends... that is precisely why I have them as friends... but, I was just re-watching some old videos of this past Rugby World Cup, and it suddenly struck me... like a bolt from the blue, I finally realized why I hate the All Blacks with such a searing passion... no, I don't just hate them because they are the BEST... I have another reason...

... what's the other reason?... why do I hate them so much?.. simple.. they scare the absolute shit out of me.. and, that is something that doesn't happen very often... I remember watching Jonah Lomu run 35 yards with four Scotsmen dangling from his arms and legs to score a Try at Murrayfield... that fucker was unstoppable... seeing him performing the famous Haka was, and IS one of the most intimidating things I have ever witnessed... of course, this is exactly the point of the Haka... you do it to show your enemies that you mean business... you show them what you are going to do to them... hell, as Patton said in his famous speech... HIS Haka...

..."We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Hun cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket....

... children, that is the exact sentiment intimated by the All Blacks performing their Haka... they are there to play Rugby, and they mean business.... and, if you've ever been on the receiving end of a Haka, it has quite a disturbing effect...

... this started me thinking about these damn beheadings... in a way, they are like a terrorist version of the Haka... they are meant to show each of us exactly what is waiting around the next turn for US... except, with THEIR version, we must not let ourselves be intimidated... we MUST not...

... listen to this... it is awesome in it's beauty... but, standing in a staduim, it will send chills up your spine... trust me... even this recording makes me look over my shoulder with a slight nervousness... what am I talking about? well, here is a bit more information...

Before the Haka is performed by the team, the Haka leader, normally an All Black of Maori descent, will instigate the Haka and spur on those who are to perform the Haka with the following.

Ringa pakia
Uma tiraha
Turi whatia
Hope whai ake
Waewae takahia kia kino

English Translation
Slap the hands against the thighs
Puff out the chest
Bend the knees
Let the hip follow
Stamp the feet as hard as you can.

Ka Mate! Ka Mate!
Ka Ora! Ka Ora!
Tenei te ta ngata puhuru huru
Nana nei i tiki mai
Whakawhiti te ra
A upane ka upane!
A upane kaupane whiti te ra!
Hi!!

English Translation
It is death! It is death!
It is life! It is life!
This is the hairy person
Who caused the sun to shine
Keep abreast! Keep abreast
The rank! Hold fast!
Into the sun that shines!

... scary stuff.... in fact, here is a small video of the Haka.... but, with all that said... THIS VIDEO of a possible Scots reaction to a Haka is worth checking out... The Scots kinda take a stance towards the Haka in this video... the same stance that I take on the beheadings... you want to intimidate somebody?... Fuck You... you want intimidation?.... I say we turn a few Maoris loose on your sorry asses...

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Cosmic Blue...

... there is a huge gulf that separates a Saab salesman, and a Mini Cooper salesman, folks... the Saab salesman knows you can afford the car when you show up, and applies little pressure.... the Mini salesman is all over you like stink on a fresh turd.. one approach works.. the other approach creates an overpowering urge to strangle the geeky bastard for invading your personal space...

... still, all in all, yesterday's car shopping was exciting... the Saabguy has a special road behind the dealership... it winds around through the hills surrounding Knoxville... curves, inclines, and surprise stop signs galore.... add to that the Straight White Wife.... a 200 Horsepower 6-speed manual transmission... and a salesman who utters such lines as..

... "throw it to her, girl!"...

... quickly followed by..

... "don't worry about the cops, Ma'am... they all get good deals on Cadillacs.. so, when they see our tags, they leave us alone.."

... and, right before I lost consciousness in the back seat from the G-force..

... "this is a performance machine... go FASTER!"

... needless to say, it is a fine thing that the seats were made of leather... it was much easier to wipe the wet spot off of the driver's seat when the test drive was finished... none of your chrome rods - or vibrating pink bunnies, children... it was a Cosmic Blue Orgasm... those Swedes have it going on...

... so, Monday will tell the tale... she's heading back to complete the hunt... I'll, of course, keep y'all informed..

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Payback...

... today will be a day that will require a night of Martinis... slammed, not sipped...

... what brings on this foreboding?.... well, today we are going shopping for a new Wifemobile... what's wrong with her old one?... not a single thing... other than the fact that it is almost paid off, and she is becoming bored with it... so, we are heading to Knoxville for a torture session courtesy of Saab.. after all, the Germans did an outstanding job of needling for a signature when I bought the A4... so, I figure the Swedes should have their chance to measure up..

... so, what is the object of the Wife's latest pantings?... what has her smacking her lips like Wile E. Coyote imagining what's for dinner?... the Saab 93 convertible, folks.... I am doomed.... yesterday was her birthday, and apart from flowers... her gift from me was the DVD set of every single episode of Northern Exposure... I suppose this is payback...

... never tell a birthday girl that is eating chocolate cake while watching Northern Exposure something like this:

... "why in the hell didn't Fleischman nail Maggie right off the bat? Is he a moron or WHAT?... She's one sexy babe.... AND, she can fly a plane... I think I'm going to enjoy re-watching these old episodes... her hair looks nice like that, don't you think?.."

... thus, today we visit Saab...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(6) | SWG Stories
» Closet Extremist links with: A Doublety of Trinities
» Gut Rumbles links with: northern exposure

Always a Pleasure..

... being invited to guestblog at a friend's site is always a pleasure... and, Adam from Single Southern Guy has asked me.. so.. if you can't find me here, don't fret, dear ones.... just creep on over to SSG and see what's going down.... you never know... hell, he always was a crazy bastard.. so, this should be fun.. oh, and a few other guests were asked.. not just me... that's for sure..... that's for DANG sure.....

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278th ACR...

... well, they are gone.... Johnny has gone for a soldier today... Fathers, Brothers, Husbands, Boyfriends, Sons... East Tennessee's Regiment is now officially underway.... they left this morning... from Sevierville, Lenior City, and many other places.... the caravan snaked it's way from the foothills... down towards the Great State of Mississippi... our boys are gone now... God Speed, dear ones... stay safe...

... this morning, I listened to the Convoy's movements on the radio while driving to work.. my cousin, Big Daddy C, took this morning off.. he wanted to help send off the troops.... when he got to work, I asked him about it... children, it was touching... as he described the scene, I was filled with pride, compassion, and love for my Country and her Troops.... I asked Big Daddy if he'd mind scribbling down his thoughts on the event for me to put on the blog.... well, just now, he sent me an e-mail.... so, I'm going to share with you...

"Well, good afternoon. Hope the drive home was nice and uneventful. Im sure it was quite wet though. Anyway, just writing to let you know about the send off of the 278th Armored Calvary Regiment, Troop D out of Lenoir City, TN of which my brother-in-law is a member. This morning as we (Missy, Bryce, Colton, Piper, Major, and Me (Big Daddy C), and Grann-Grann (Missy and V.J.'s Grandmother)) came out of the Village Parkway to merge onto 321, the traffic was pretty much bumper to bumper at 6 am. We saw, and heard, lights and sirens, to which Missy responded, "Shit B.D.C., they are lined up plum to HERE from the Armory".

So, I sit for a bit to wait, but no asshole would let me into the traffic, so I decided I would pull out anyway. They were only going about 10 mph anyway. The traffic was that way for about 5 miles until we reached I75. That was when we realized that it was the Blount County Troop and their convoy of supporters giving them their proper send off. At that point things began to hit home for Missy and Grann-Grann and, of course, Me too. We arrived at the Armory about 15 after 6. 200 people were already there (members of Civilian-Soldiers families and friends). We went inside to be with V.J. and the rest of the troop to tell them how much we support them, and man, was I not ready for what I walked into. It was like attending a funeral.

Guys were huddled with their families and friends talking quietly amongst
themselves. The closer it got to time for the bus to pull out the worse
it got. At 25 till 8 the bus arrived. At that time, the guys got up and took
their gear to the bus to load and the families went with them. Here we all
were in the pouring rain. Standing. Hugging. Oh, by the way V.J. has a 8 year old daughter (Abbey). She was just beside herself crying. But, what was so weird was how V. J.'s new girlfriend, his ex-wife, and her new husband were all in a nice little huddle - along, of course, with about 12 more of us, and just to see how everybody got along and were hugging, crying, and consoling each other was incredible.

At one point, he and his ex-wife were over there hugging and talking. All the while, her husband was with us talking like he was just one of us. But all through the building it was all just so sad. Fathers, brothers, sons, all leaving their families' - maybe to never come back, and seeing their children crying, and just wondering what they were thinking. Of course, my children were emotional as well. As was Missy and everyone else.

I was watching people say their goodbye's, and I saw this one fellow with his young wife and two small children. It was almost time to board the bus, and he was going through his keychain explaining each key to her, and what it was for, and how to unlock some door. Of course, that was the farthest thing from her mind, and she was balling her eyes out, and dealing with their 4 year old and 2 year old. All the while, tears were streaming down his face too. That kinda stuff just tore me up.

The bus had 10 city and county cops as an escort, but in front of the bus - and behind - it were two of Tennessee's finest with lights and sirens blaring. They escorted them all the way to the Georgia State line, I understood a family member say. I have been through many things, but this was quite emotional. Especially for a big slug whom many think doesn't have a heart, such as myself. Well that's about enough of that. There is too much to say, and I just can't type worth a F@%&...... I just thought you, of all people, could understand the thoughts and feelings I have at the present. Last, but not the least, may God be with the 278th, their families, and all of our Military Personnel and their families, and keep them safe. You know me I am in support of our troops just as you are.

Much Love Cuz,

Big Daddy C"

.... I wish I could have been there to help send them off... but, Big Daddy and his family seemed to have done a fine job without me.... Fair winds, and following Seas, 278th... thank you for your service and sacrifice...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(24) | Military Stuff
» Closet Extremist links with: A Doublety of Trinities

Savages...

.... although some might enjoy it... others might consider it to be a form of torture... Mexican Prisons.... Mozart... and, Sandalwood.... what a world we live in... what a world.. you want to calm violent prisoners?... heh... I can think of some other means to induce the proper bahavior... still, kinder and gentler seems to be the catchphrase these days... not at my house, of course.. we have two behavior mods.. the pleasure and the pain... that is all... you want to change my behavior?.... aromatherapy just wouldn't cut it, children..

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A Murdered Baby...

.. imagine being awakened at 3am by the screams.... filled with enough foul intent to curdle the blood of the most savage among us... pleaful screams... beckoning screams.... woeful screams, people.... screams that could rouse the very dead.....

...what do you do?.. rush out with your 12ga at high port arms?.... whisk the deadly Cold Steel blade from under your pillow, and charge?... disable the attacker?... castrate the bastard?... plunge your rage into the husk of the perp?...

... no, children... no... what do you do?.... you run like fuck.... why?

... because, gentle ones, you are in ALASKA... and.... quite frankly, this is a normal occurence.... hey, you want to know what I'm talking about?... here....

GRIZZLY: Gruesome attack shocks residents as cow attempts to charge, then leaves baby.

By MEGAN HOLLAND
Anchorage Daily News

Watch a portion of the video recorded by Trent Boggs of a brown bear eating a moose calf that the bear had killed in Boggses' driveway. The bear fed on the moose in the backyard before carrying the carcass into the woods in a Eagle River neighborhood.

Trent and Sheri Boggs, with their children Rebecca, 11, and Nikole, 7, awoke early Wednesday morning to the sounds of a moose calf being attacked by a brown bear in the driveway of their Eagle River home. (Bill Roth / Anchorage Daily News)

Sheri Boggs woke up around 3:30 a.m. Wednesday to the most chilling scream she had ever heard.

She jumped out of bed and ran to the window expecting to see a woman being attacked -- but instead saw a brown bear shredding a moose calf on the pavement of her Eagle River driveway.

"I know that's what bears do," Boggs said. "But they don't do it in your driveway."

Her husband, Trent, ran downstairs before even looking out the window, sure the shrieking was a person who needed his help. "I thought somebody was being killed in the street," he said.

The attack occurred on South Mitkof Loop in the Eaglewood subdivision, a suburban neighborhood of newly built two-story homes, manicured lawns and a Wal-Mart just around the corner. The sight of kids crowding the streets with bicycles is more the norm than wandering bears.

The Boggses weren't the only ones roused by the calf's screams. Their neighbors, just stone throws away, also ran to their windows.

Next door, Gail Robley saw the bear chase the calf across the street to the Boggses' driveway, where it pinned the calf against a Ford Focus and went in for the kill.

That's when Trent opened his front door, about to spring to help whoever needed him. But instead, he saw the bear, less than 20 feet to his left, on its back legs holding the calf and "using its hands to kill the moose," he said. To his right was the mother moose, running up to charge the bear, then scurrying backward. "I freaked out," he said.

He slammed the door, then ran for his gun. He wasn't confident his front door could hold back a grizzly, he said.

"For about half an hour that little baby just whimpered and cried, and it was just heartbreaking," said Robley, who said the sound echoed through the neighborhood in the still of the night.

"It sounded like someone was getting murdered. It was just horrible," said Amanda Gallagher, who lives across the street from the Boggses. "I just can't get that sound out of my head."

The mother moose continued to pace up and down the street but eventually retreated to the woods, neighbors said.

Then the bear dragged the calf across the driveway, knocked over two planters with marigold flowers and brought the calf to the side of the house. It appears the bear ate just the guts, state biologist Rick Sinnott said. The bear probably intended to return later, he said.

Sheri Boggs and other residents believe the adult moose was the same one that gave birth to twin calves in her back yard several weeks ago. The moose and her calves had been in the neighborhood for days, residents said.

"That's probably why the mama moose eventually ran off," Robley speculated. "She had to attend to her other calf."

Once he had settled down, Trent Boggs traded his gun for a video camera, and he and Sheri Boggs let their 11-year-old daughter, Rebecca, watch the feed. It was a good opportunity to teach her about how to behave around bears, Trent Boggs said. But their other daughter, 7-year-old Nikole, was asleep, and they preferred it that way.

In the morning, they washed down the blood, bones, fur, guts and scat in front of their home.

"We didn't want the little one to be afraid," Trent Boggs said.

"There are lots of bears in town, but they tend to be black bears, not grizzlies," said Sinnott, who cleaned up the remains of the calf in the morning, after the bear had retreated to the greenbelt behind the Boggses' home.

Sinnott said the grizzly, estimated at around 3 years old, was probably attracted to the garbage in the residential neighborhood. He thinks it may be the same bear that appeared in the area last fall. "People are basically baiting the neighborhoods," he said.

Homeowners are not supposed to leave garbage out the night before pickup; if they do, they face fines. Last fall, Sinnott found more than a quarter of homes in the Eagle Ridge neighborhood, another neighborhood in the Eagle Loop area, were leaving garbage out. Birdseed is also a problem, he said.

In 1999, the state had to kill a brown bear in the same Eaglewood subdivision. Sinnott has no plans to dispose of this bear. "There's always going to be more bears until we fix the cycle of ignorance," he said.

Residents must start keeping garbage inside, or bears will start eating refuse and lose their fear of people, Sinnott said."

... courtesy of the Anchorage Daily News, if you care to register....

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Wednesday Poolfest...

... tis that time again... such a sacrifice I make.... oh, the horror... the HORROR, children... forcing myself to dine early.. dutifully brushing off the pooltable.... laying out the camel colored chalk.... getting the wee jukebox jamming.... pouring myself a double Glenmorangie... and, starting to welcome the boys to the slaughter.... man, my life is really hitting a low point here... this is such a chore... heh...

... still, I had my mojo working full tilt today at work... so, if the groove holds, tonight will be a night of record class whoopass delivery... who's yo Daddy, indeed.... gaze upon my works, ye mighty, and despair... word, people... it is on...

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Quote of the Day...

..."it's like lace butter"...

...uh, ok....

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A Meme...

.... ok... mainly becuase she's got a crush on me... but, ALSO because I like this one.... here's a meme for you...

Last Cigarette: about 2 minutes ago...

Last Alcoholic Drink: currently sipping on a Scotch and Water

Last Car Ride: the scenic ride home from work... skirting the National Forest..

Last Kiss: this morning as I was leaving for work...

Last Good Cry: Sunday, I watched all of the Band of Brothers episodes.... when they liberated the concentration camp, I managed to get a bit misty...

Last Library Book checked out: ..good God.. I haven't had a library card for ages... even in spite of my love for dark-haired librarians...

Last Movie Seen in Theater: ...not 100% sure... possibly Die Another Day...

Last Book Read: Flags of Our Fathers... I recommend it to anyone..

Last Movie Rented: Training Day....

Last Cuss Word Uttered: ..the ubiquitous "Fuck You, you Bastard"... usually aimed at Billy....actually, this morning, he pulled into the parking lot, and said.. "'morning, Boys".. to which, Big Daddy C and I replied in unison... "Fuck you, Billy"....

Last Beverage Drank: drinking it right now, I'm afraid....

Last Food Consumed: Turkey and Cheddar sandwich with HP Brown Sauce and Mayo... what can I say?.. I like sandwiches when I'm cooking for one...

Last Crush: No Way I'm telling....

Last Phone Call: Some bitch saleswoman calling from Company ? to fleece me for inexpensive toner cartridges.. when I asked her again for her company name, the ass hung up on me...

Last TV Show Watched: more re-runs of Band of Brothers last night... I haven't turned on the TV yet today....

Last Time Showered: ..what?... this morning, of course... and, I'll have another one before I hit the rack tonight...

Last Shoes Worn: Tony Lama cowboy boots... worn 6 days out of every week, more or less...

Last CD Played: heh... I finally got around to opening that Johnny Cash collection that I received for Christmas... "One Piece at a Time", baby

Last Item Bought: ..2 month subsrciption to a Hungarian pornsite... hey, they were hotties.... leave me alone...

Last Download: ...sheesh... a driver for a Konica Printer this afternoon...

Last Annoyance: answering these damn questions....

Last Disappointment: ...finding that I was almost out of Scotch when I arrived home tonight... I guess I'll be on the Gin for the rest of the week...

Last Soda: Fanta grape soda at lunch today.... the absolute perfect chaser for a chili dog.... at work, anyway...

Last Thing Written: "at work, anyway..."

Last Key Used: House

Last Word(s) Spoken: ...well, that is a hard one... I was just singing really loudly to myself... being that there is no one here except me.... what was I singing?... "One For my Baby", naturally....

Last Sleep: 11:30pm to 5:15am this morning...

Last IM: I don't normally use IM... but, probably the last person I talked to was the surly Bartender from Madfish Willies....

Last Sexual Fantasy: oh, you guys really, REALLY don't want to know this... trust me...

Last Weird Encounter: ...driving home on Wednesday, I see this pickup truck pulled over near my house.... some baseball cap wearing guy is taking digital photos of something... and, THEN he takes out his cell phone, and takes MORE photos... turns out there are three deer in a field just down from the road... man, us Southern Rednecks are becoming WAY to technologically proficient...

Last Ice Cream Eaten: Mayfield's Butter Pecan... last week... very nice when you put some chocolate sauce on top....

Last Time Amused: ...every second I am alive, I am amused by something... even if it is just reading blogs or navel gazing.... ALL of us are insanely funny...

Last Time Wanting To Die: ... damn.. I don't think I have ever really wanted to die.. ever... as long as there is booze to drink... stuff to read.... and, my guitar is in tune.. well, life is just always worth living, people....

Last Time Hugged: ...hmm.. this one is a little harder than the kissing one.... still, I suppose I was hugged today.... I just can't remember by whom....

Last Time Scolded: ...simply doesn't happen, people....

Last Time Resentful: ...I don't know... I think it has probably been longer than I can remember..

Last Chair Sat In: ...jumpin' jebus... what do you think?... I'm STANDING while I write this?... my lumpy purple chair that sits in the blogroom, of course....

Last Underwear Worn: .. I never wear underwear... sorry to disappoint.

Last Bra Worn: ... no comment...

Last Shirt Worn: ..Yellow short-sleeved knit shirt that I am wearing now...

Last Webpage Visited: The Diva's page... of course....

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(4) | Psycho Rants
» The Everlasting Phelps links with: Anudder Meme

Trivia....

... last night I was re-watching one of my favorite movies... you know the kind... the one you never really tire of seeing.... you know most of the dialogue... you talk through your favorite parts.... well, last night, I nearly spilled my Scotch... I suddenly found a line that I had missed through the many viewings... classic in it's clarity.. and, I'd missed it all these times... man, that movie just keeps getting better and better.... what was the line?... ok, here it is.... now, tell me the movie it comes from.... any guesses?

".. 1... 2..3...... 4..... 5.. 6.... 7... Oswald was a fag..."

... and, no googling, you cheating bastards.....

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(6) | Psycho Rants
» Madfish Willie's Cyber Saloon links with: Good vs Evil

I knew it...

.... heh.. busy as a bee?.... hardly... I always knew it was beavers that were busy...

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A Secret...

... sure... we've all got them.... haven't we?... ok, so what gets you going?.. what starts your engine, so to speak?.... well, for me, it has always been glasses... horn-rimmed, sunglasses, dainty little arty ones... it really doesn't matter... I just plain dig a woman wearing glasses... I must have had a fetish for one of my old librarians, or something..... oh, and all the more better if she has her hair up in a ponytail.. a neck is a close second on the list, dear ones...... well, as everyone knows, Adicman, he likes some toenails.... hey, that's cool... it never really floated my boat.... but, it wasn't until this very day... today... that I realized that I had come to appreciate his "point of view"....

... here is how it happened, friends.... at one point, a young woman was in my office... she often comes in.. but, today I noticed that she was wearing sandals... and, her nails were painted a deep, deep red.... almost a shade of purple.... well, children... it was on.... they were gorgeous... tanned leg.. elegantly shaded toes... dayum... still, I managed to remain composed, and steadfastly persevered.....

... but, the final breaking point came later in the day.... one office I was summoned to housed five blondes... all between the ages of 19 to 50.... all, good ole Southern Girls.... with the exception of the Russian Exchange Student.... and, all of them suffering from the deprivations of a Southern Summer.... as a result, all were wearing either skirts... capri pants.... or, shorts... but, what was more entertaining was that they all were wearing sandals.. or, various variations upon that exalted theme...

... in a nut shell, gentle ones, it was a veritable smorgasbord of daintily painted toenails... pink... cherry red.... rose red.... whore red... don't you dare tell your Mother red... it was like a tidal wave of sumptous feet.... and, I'm here to tell you, I barely made it back to shore....

... I have never been one to gaze lovingly at someone's toes... all in all, feet are pretty damn disgusting... but, today?.... I know whereof Acidman speaks.. a fine woman with a fresh pedicure is a hard thing to beat.. hard thing to beat, children..... I've never been a footie kinda guy, but today would have tried the hardiest of souls....

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(11) | Psycho Rants
» Gut Rumbles links with: late bloomer

Joke of the Day...

Courtesy of Strange Cosmos....

The history lessons you didn't receive in High School....


Part I (the B.C. years)

3050 B.C. - A Sumerian invents the wheel. Within the week, the idea is stolen and duplicated by other Sumerians, thereby establishing the business code of ethics.

2900 B.C. - Egyptians create Sphinx, one of Seven Great Wonders of the Ancient, but refuse to talk about it.

1850 B.C. - Britons announce Operation Stonehenge a success after arranging slabs in sufficiently meaningless pattern to confuse scientists for centuries.

1785 B.C. - The first calendar is introduced by Babylonian scientists.

1768 B.C. - Babylonians experience winter in June.

776 B.C. - The world's first known money appears in Persia. World's first known counterfeiter appears in Persia next day.

525 B.C. - The first Olympics are held in Greece. USSR enters six footer with a mustache in women's shot put.

410 B.C. - Rome ends the practice of enslaving debtors, removing biggest single obstacle to the development of the credit card.

404 B.C. - The Peloponnesian war enters 27th year because neither side can find a treaty writer who can spell Peloponnesian.

214 B.C. - Tens of thousands of Chinese people complete 1,500 mile long Great Wall. Neighbor's dog gets through.

1 B.C. - Calendar manufacturers argue over what to call next year.

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Wow...

.. ouch... I know that the article says she was victimized by men... but, biting off a hunk of your boyfriend... and, swallowing it?... seems a bit harsh...

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Sunday...

... it's 3:30 in the afternoon... my spaghetti sauce that I started at Noon is simmering on the stove, and I'm re-watching Band of Brothers... time for a Scotch, I think... now, this is the way to spend a lazy Sunday... my sauce will be done around 6:30... I can hardly wait.... the longer it cooks, the more layers of flavor come to the surface... parmesan... basil... oregano... bay leaf... vanilla... romano... mint.... cloves... garlic... each one subtly arriving... damn, I can hardly wait... one of these days, I'll have to post my recipe... along with the cooking instructions... till then, just use your imagination, children....

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Swearing....

... well, I finally did it.... I watched an episode of Deadwood... boys and girls, Al Swearingen is one piece of work... did you see him smother that poor bastard?... I don't know who he was, but he sure got the treatment... hey, like I said, it was my first episode... so, any commentary from me would be uninformed... but, that's not what I wanted to talk about anyway.... I wanted to bring up his use of colorful language...

... I don't mind foul language... in fact, I think it has a definite place in our day-to-day mental wanderings.... even sitting here right now, many wonderfully phrases are zipping through my mind.... oaths from days past, friends... some of the most entertaining curses I ever heard were from my DIs at Parris Island... they took language to a new place, people.... their creativity knew no limits... they made ole Al look like a choirboy.... but, this brings me to my morning focus.... blogs... do you post profanities on your blog?... are you offended by them?... would a ceremonial de-linking take place if you uttered one?.. or, would the rubberneckers who read your crap actually appreciate a few choice words on occasion?... well, like I said, my amateurish musings sometimes include a few "fuck you's"... are you upset by this?.... here, take what the Writer/God Mr. Twain had to say about it...

"Under certain circumstances profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer."
Mark Twain

"If I cannot swear in heaven I shall not stay there."
Mark Twain

... wow... it appears that he was pro-"fuck you's".... heh, I like that in a writer... still, I once remember seeing an ancient copy of Penthouse... reading it, of course, for the comics.... and, I distinctly recall an excerpt of the "found written on the wall of a public toilet" section...

... "foul language is just a crutch for inarticulate motherfuckers"...

... I tend to disagree with the statement mentioned above... I think it has a place in the vocabulary of all civilized gentlemen.... anyway, as I was stumbling around the net this morning, I locked upon this article... which, of course, is what started this whole train-wreck of a post... so, with that said... move along, people... there is nothing to see here....

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Madonna...

... so, Madonna is changing her name?... great... ok, just tell me who really gives a flying shit?.. and, why is this newsworthy?... she made her living acting like a floozy... now she's Esther?... gimme a break, please... still, she provides us with a memorable quote for the day...

"... If it's traditional to be a decent human being, then I'm traditional."

.. CNN is getting damn close to rock bottom....

Update: Thanks to The Diva for pointing out the error of my ways...

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Call to Prayer...

... I remember the first time I heard the evening "call to prayer"... I loved it....it was so beautiful to hear... so evocative.... and, it just added to the amazement of being in such an alien place... a place where I was the stranger... a stranger in every way possible... I felt like an explorer... an adventurer... or, maybe I had just read too much Kipling... but, sitting on the veranda of the Dhaka Club sipping a Sapphire G & T, the "call to prayer" was the perfect backdrop to complete the exotic scene.... one of the local street vendors was selling cassette tapes near the foot of a nearby minaret... and, I bought one... I remembered that today.... and, a few minutes ago, I put it in my stereo... that sound that had excited me so in 2000?... today, it shocked me to my core...

... the city we had visited was about 90% Muslim... there was a smattering of Christians, Jews, and Hindus scattered in... but, Islam still dripped from every corner street.... 5 times a day, the city reverberated with the Fard... still, I never felt threatened... all of the people I met were courteous, friendly, and genuinely welcoming people... sure, we read of violence in the newspapers every other day... but, it was mainly rioting against the Government... which, was in dire need of people rioting against it.... as for fundamentalists?... none were mentioned... read about... or, talked about.... I'm sure that a few were there... they always are... but, everyone kept saying to me, when I'd ask political or religious questions.... "ahhh, but we are an Islamic Country.. NOT an Islamic State like Pakistan".... at the time, I didn't really understand that.... But, I'm slowly beginning to now... in a way, it seems that there are two types of Muslims...

... those who believe in their religion, and use it as a Faith....

... and...

... then, there are those who use their religion to gain Power... The power to rape, murder, and steal.. in the name of their religion.....

... but, this problem is not only present in Islam, people.... it is there to be seen on the face of every religion on the planet... why?... well, it is too easy for some to use religion as a tool to focus the masses for a personal agenda... and that IS power.... and religion is the perfect vehicle... these people must be scoured from the face of the planet... regardless of which religion they hold, or what Armpit of the World they reside in...

... all day today, I have been working over the fate of Mr. Johnson... I found myself staring blankly at the television.... I suddenly realized I was thumbing through old photo albums of my Father.... and, without even knowing it, I suddenly found myself field stripping my AR-15 in the blogroom to clean it... my mind was on autopilot... fleeing from the horror... Mr. Berg's death sent me into a blind rage.... Johnson's has had a different effect... these past events, and surely, these coming events tear at us each in different ways... I am angry... I am worried.... but, I am not scared... we are all in this War... we are combatants as much as are our Troops in the Field... we must deepen our resolve... more of this is to come... of that, you can be sure...

... one last thing before I close.... a strange thing that I remember from my travels in a Muslim Land.... is how I was always addressed with "Assalamu alaikum" when someone first was introduced to me... "Peace be upon you", they said in Arabic... the Hebrew version is quite similar, don't you think?.... "Shalom Aleichem"

... Mr. Johnson... to you and your family, Peace be upon you....

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Murder yet again...

... too angry to think right now.... Velociman says it best anyway....

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Art....

... I am remiss in posting about the Wednesday Poolfest... as is the norm, a good time was had by all attending.... however, a slight oversight on my part brought forth unexpected pleasures today...

... all of the brazen perverts who attend my Wednesday night forays have contributed to the decor of the place.... as host, I created the giant copper lizard/dinosaur which hangs on the wall to intimidate my enemies.... Cousin B bought the little tip-top trashcan for hiding his smashed beer cans... the Father-in-law brought the little brass Bhutanese Lightning Bolt that he bought in Punakha...it hangs above the table between the two cantilevered chalk dispensers.... the Catholic Priest who sent me a subscription to Harpers contributed the 40th Anniversary of Harpers Poster.. it hangs between the windows... usually obscured by clouds of chalk dust and cigarette smoke..... and last, but not least, Biker Steve contributed The Bridge.... which, of course, Cousin B destroyed in a state of drunken revelry..

... well, this Wednesday, a particularly hard shot was planned by TGITWPP.. as always happens, he found that he needed the bridge... he gets it off the ledge, and places it on the table.. it's leaning to one side.. a leg is missing due to drunken ineptitude... of course, the bridge is still usable, but it just doesn't look very fitting.. he even commented on it... something crooked in the Straight White House?... this simply will not do.... so, after missing his shot, he proceeded to blame the broken bridge for his troubles...

... as we were finishing up the night, he walked over and unscrewed the brass head off of the bridge.... muttered something about fixing it... and, we all said our farewells..... nothing else was thought about it.... until now.... children, today he gave it to me.... wow.... fixed?.. this thing is too damn pretty to use now.... he took out the plastic "legs", and replaced them with turquoise.. pinned to the brass with silver rods.... and, in the very front of the bridge, he placed a large turquoise triangle.. about an inch long... surrounded by silver... I'm telling you, this thing is a work of art.... I wish I had my digital camera here, I'd post a picture....

... when I asked him how much I owed him, he just smiled and said....

... "just make sure you don't run out of Wild Turkey on Wednesdays... Hell, I'd been meaning to contribute something to the Pool nights.... heh... so, I guess this is as good as B's damn trashcan"....

... damn... I was touched, gentle readers... all of the people who come on Wednesday's are 100% incredible... hands down.. It is a wondrous gift to have such friends... so, my Meucci may not be custom made, but my bridge sure as hell is.... now, all I need is for Big Daddy C to cough up for a table light, and we're set....

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Strange...

... Headline of the Day....

... "A nude model, five bodies and the Mormon assassination plot attempt"....

... now, honestly... who has the willpower to NOT click on a headline like that?...

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Storm's Comin'...

... home at last, and just in time... the rain is here.... the heat of the day has passed.. a sweltering 92 in the foothills of the Cherokee National Forest was endured today.... for some reason - known only to the Straight White Wife - the windows are open... a breeze is coming through as the rain plays havoc with the fescue.. my poor lawn... beaten into submission by big ole fat rain... still, I suppose it will mean less to mow... once it's washed away... or, rather.. less to watch the gardener mow while I'm having my Saturday afternoon libations... such agression in those raindrops... screaming through the dogwood leaves as if Rangers over St. Mere-Eglise... only to splat themselves into oblivion upon the stony altar that is my vile acre....

... still, this Time provides for entertainment.. of sorts.... when the power finally gives up the ghost, and the thunder is rolling, I'll make my move... after all, with no WE channel... or Lifetime Network, I might stand a chance of getting into the Straight White Pants of the Straight White Wife.... and, per prior agreement in these matters, Scotch and Thorogood are proper motivational material before the rumpy-pumpy... so, I leave you with some George... feel free to sing along before the power caves...

... Howlin' For My Baby....

...sing along, children... you'll enjoy it... nothing like a little George to make you feel playful..

She's hot like red pepper
Sweet like cherry wine
I'm so glad she love me
Love me all the time
She's my little baby
Sweet as she can be
All this love she got
It belong to me
If you hear me howlin'
Callin' on my darlin'
Say Hoooo-ooo-ooo-wee

Every time she kiss me
She make the lights go out
Burnin' in the mornin'
She make me jump and shout
This bad love I got
Make me laugh and cry
Makes me really know
That I'm too young too die
If you hear me howlin'
Callin' on my darlin'
Say Hoooo-ooo-ooo-wee

Every time she kiss me
She make the lights go out
Burnin' in the mornin'
She make me jump and shout
She my little baby
Sweet as she can be
And all this love she got
It belong to me
If you hear me howlin'
Callin' on my darlin'
Say Hoooo-ooo-ooo-wee
Hoooo-ooo-ooo-wee

She's hot like red pepper
Sweet like cherry wine
And I'm so glad she loves me
Love me all the time
This bad love I got
Make me laugh and cry
Makes me really know
That I'm too young too die
If you hear me howlin'
Callin' on my darlin'
Say Hoooo-ooo-ooo-wee
Hoooo-ooo-ooo-wee

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Kissing Cousins...

... as usual, I bring you the news that you NEED to hear.... what is it today, you ask?... well, it appears that you can forget all that stuff you've heard about your favorite cousinly taboo causing birth defects.... according to this, it's alright... so, have at it, children....

... I'm sure that most of you bastards just breathed a communal sigh of relief..

... you're welcome....

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Trust the Scots...

... as you all know, the only kind of protesters that I like are nekkid ones... if you are going to harp on about some issue.. any issue... at least be entertaining... and, for me, the best way you can entertain me is to be buck nekkid... it takes the edge off whatever wacky politics you are crying about... but, leave it to the Scots to screw up a perfectly good time....

"On World Naked Bike Ride Day, the good people of Vancouver cycle naked. As do cyclists in the Netherlands, Germany, Spain, New Zealand and the US. In Edinburgh however the very thought of wobbly bums on slim saddles horrified the ladies of Morningside so much that organisers were forced to turn their protest against oil dependency into "the worlds first non-naked naked bike ride".

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(1) | Psycho Rants
» A Single Southern Guy In America links with: Oddities I See

Disappointed...

... I just have to get this off my chest, people.. you are all a huge disappointment... with, of course, the exception of Gooseman and The Sicilian... the rest of you are indeed, weak-stomached little babies.. and, quite frankly, I expected more moral fiber from you all...

... good God, people, eating Haggis is a time honored tradition.. in keeping with the best graces of a fine living... from the time of the most primitive Celts... right through to today's modern Scots... Prince and pauper alike have dined with glee upon the exquisite floppily-doppilies of the noble Haggis... eating a Haggis is a rite of passage... a ritual that must be savored.. you must learn to look beyond the ingredients, glasshoppa.... you are eating history when you sup upon a Haggis... Rabbie Burns wrote sonnets to it, fer chrissakes... and, many a Burns Supper would be a mere facade of tradition if it didn't cook the old bag every January 25th.... but, like I said... you all have disappointed me... I always figured that brave, inquisitive, and adventurous Souls read this humble blog... instead?... what do I find?... squeamish little weiners... afraid of a bag full of sheep innards.. oh, woe is me, dear ones... woe is me... so, I shall leave you with the Immortal Bard... run and fetch your Chamber's Scottish Dictionary, children... he uses some wild words to praise The Haggis....

Address to a Haggis, Robert Burns

Fair fa' your honest, sonsie face,
Great chieftain o the puddin'-race!
Aboon them a' ye tak your place,
Painch, tripe, or thairm:
Weel are ye wordy of a grace
As lang's my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill,
Your hurdies like a distant hill,
Your pin wad help to mend a mill
In time o need,
While thro your pores the dews distil
Like amber bead.

His knife see rustic Labour dight,
An cut you up wi ready slight,
Trenching your gushing entrails bright,
Like onie ditch;
And then, O what a glorious sight,
Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an strive:
Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive,
Till a' their weel-swall'd kytes belyve
Are bent like drums;
The auld Guidman, maist like to rive,
'Bethankit' hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout,
Or olio that wad staw a sow,
Or fricassee wad mak her spew
Wi perfect sconner,
Looks down wi sneering, scornfu view
On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash,
As feckless as a wither'd rash,
His spindle shank a guid whip-lash,
His nieve a nit:
Thro bloody flood or field to dash,
O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He'll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.

Ye Pow'rs, wha mak mankind your care,
And dish them out their bill o fare,
Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware
That jaups in luggies:
But, if ye wish her grateful prayer,
Gie her a Haggis!

... Slainte, children... Got Haggis?..

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Visual Aids...

... you have got to hand it to the Japanese.. they sure know how to enjoy themselves... hell, I think it is a GREAT idea....

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(5) | Psycho Rants
» A Single Southern Guy In America links with: Oddities I See

The Haggis...

... Ladies and Gentlemen... as was requested, here is the delivery... proof, so to speak, of a nicht of Scottish feasting..... here it is.... a 3 pounder... a monster of a Haggis by all accounts... from out of one stomach, and into many, my people... chased with Rioja and Single Malt... followed by bashed tatties and chapit neeps.... as tasty as anything ever cooked inside the belly of a beast.... pure downhome goodness... oh, and feel free to click on the images for a nice juicy closeup...

haggis_small.jpg

... and, gentle ones, here is is split wide open and ready for the feast... notice the veins on the sheep's stomach... a very nice touch, I thought....

eating_small.jpg

... heart, liver, lungs, and various other tasty bits... thrown in with some spices and oats... stuffed inside a deceased sheep's gut... and, slowly boiled to perfection... all in all, it wasn't the best Haggis I've eaten... a bit too rich for my palate... not oaty enough, I'm afraid... but, I suppose it was a fine example of New Jersey's Finest... many thanks to the wonderfully helpful people at Kearny's for a speedy offal delivery... it, quite literally, hit the spot.... I shall be sampling the black, white, and blood puddings of the aforementioned Kearny's in the very near future.... and, of course you'll be getting the skinny on the outcome.... in summation, if ye have'nae tried Haggis, ye have'nae lived, Son....

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(20) | Drinking
» The World Wide Rant - v3.0 links with: That's Just Nasty
» INDC Journal links with: YUCK! (Watch)
» FreedomSight links with: Haggis!
» Uptown Girl links with: Re: Blogs - 9
» My Pet Jawa links with: Haggis vs. Heinz-Kerry
» drowning at 2 feet sea level links with: A Blogx Tale
» Parkway Rest Stop links with: Aftermath.

Strange Tribute...

... I love the Stones... but, Lenny REALLY does... still, a time comes when even holding Jagger in the highest respect, you just gotta burn that momento...

Singer Lenny Kravitz says he kept a marijuana joint he'd shared with Mick Jagger, for a year as a tribute.

Kravitz said he'd kept the joint because he was such a fan of the Rolling Stones frontman.

However, the remainder of the valued souvenir went up in smoke a year later after he ran out of dope.

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Bergman...

... I've just spent the last 45 minutes watching Ingrid try to needle information out of an amnesia-addled Gregory Peck... I'm jealous.... man, when she puts her hair up, she's a total toy.. made to be played with.. horn-rimmed glasses and all... psychiatrists are almost as sexy as librarians... who knew?...

... last week, me and the Alaskans watched Casablanca... the same effect was not felt then... I just couldn't get past the fact that she was playing Bogie like a fucking violin... she never intended on staying at Rick's Cafe Americain.. sipping Champagne Cocktails and schmoozing with the Vichy... all she wanted was those damn exit visas... and, she was willing to do just about anything to get them.... but, at least Rick got to ride her one last time up in his office... we'll always have Paris?... heh, indeed... you could almost see the wet spot on his desk while they were lighting up their cigarettes afterwards..

... the stars of Casablanca were Bogart, Greenstreet, Rains, and Lorre... Bergman was an evil bitch.... I wanted to strangle her.... but, with a new week comes a new perspective... Spellbound?... baby, she could keep me up till the wee hours ANY time... she is smoking... I wonder if Hitchcock or Peck managed to cop a feel?...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(4) | Drinking
» The Peoria Pundit links with: Like Paris, we'll always have Ingrid
» Seven Inches of Sense links with: Piquant Posts for Perusal

Personal Defense...

... when I took my conceal carry course, we had to put in some rangetime... back then, I was planning to carry my Taurus 92AF that I had owned since 1990... I qualified for my USMC pistol badge with that baby... but, two weeks of lugging that bastard around in civilian clothes soon made me change my mind... too damn big..

... so, as you do, I went shopping for a new daily carry weapon... I settled on the Beretta 86 Cheetah in .380... sure, it is a small caliber, but it is enough for me.. my Mother sports a hammerless Ladysmith .38, and she loves it... among my family who packs, we have Kimber .45... various Glocks... a few .38 revolvers... and, even some .25 automatics... say what you will about the 9mm shorty, but it is one hot little round... I love my Cheetah...

... down here in the South where it is hotter than the surface of the Sun, clothing is often at a bare minimum... a big framed firearm quickly becomes an albatross... and, with shorts and tee-shirts, almost impossible to conceal... as a result, many .45 packers end up either leaving their weapon in their car, or they overdress.. (a sure way to spot the armed man around here is when everyone is wearing shorts, and the guy is wearing a tee-shirt and un-tucked button-up shirt over the top)... my .380 is still not really a Summer gun... but, three seasons out of the year, it is perfect for concealing...

86.jpg

... that's my Baby... although, this one is a bit nude... mine sports a cut down Hogue pullover...

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Vacation Firsts...

... we said goodbye to our friends this morning... early.. they headed back to Pennsylvania at 7AM... on Sunday, they will catch their flight back to Anchorage.... it was a breath of fresh air to see them again after 2 years... sometimes, it seems that time truly does fly by... it sure doesn't SEEM like two years since we saw them last... still, I suppose some friendships are like that... time really doesn't matter.... it is odd, in a way... after two years apart, we could sit on the deck drinking a frozen Colada... and, just watch the world... there was no need for small-talk... no real need to "catch up"... it is a true friend with whom you can sit, and be quiet... and, enjoy each other's company without posing or posturing... my friend and his Wife... well, they are the genuine article...

... I will post a complete rundown later in the week... complete with photos... of The Haggis... The Scotch... and, a hundred other little things that took place... but, sitting here now... a few pieces of minutiae are bubbling to the surface... hell, in retrospect, I did a lot of new things this week... small things, maybe... but, new experiences... so, in no particular order, here are a few....

1. Made a Margarita from scratch.. shaken, not blended....
2. Made an incredible Pina Colada from scratch...
3. Retraced Longstreet's path as he slammed into the undefended center of Rosecran's lines at Chickamauga... and, walked up and across Snodgrass Hill where the Union held the line after regrouping...
4. Went to the top of Wilder's Memorial... on the far Yankee right... his stand, albeit with his repeating rifles, saved Rosecran's ass in a major way...
5. Had strawberry cheesecake ice cream in a real 1950's diner...
6. Ate an unusual Haggi from New Jersey.. more on that later....
7. Went three entire days without ever putting on a pair of shoes... now THAT is a vacation...

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Holy Shit, Batman...

...sweet Lord... where to start?... I get back from vacation to find a scene so full of perversions... so full of degradations... that, standing here now, it's hard to take in the full picture.... the master bedroom is a total fucking train wreck.... the bedposts are scratched all to Hell... I suspect someone has been playing with the handcuffs... damn, I just hope the victim was willing... I don't think I'm ever going to be able to buff out the "Z" someone put on the wall above the headboard... it almost looks as if it had been scored by some sort of bullwhip... and, the ceiling fan is broken too... there are Polaroid photos stuck all over the mirror... oh, my gentle readers, the Horror... all I can say is this... it's a good thing those "consenting adults" were wearing masks... because, I'm quite sure that those "acts" are still illegal here in Tennessee... (if anyone wants copies of the photos, e-mail me.. there IS a small charge, however..)

... what's this?... incredible... the leather sofa in the front room is toast.... hell, it looks like a viagra-crazed Tasmanian Devil has run rampant in the living room... the whole place smells vaguely of reefer, urine, and kiwi-passion fruit massage oil... on the floor?... used condoms... a crumpled thong with "if found, please return to the Rincon, GA Public Bath" stamped on it... also, small, strategically placed heaps of KFC chicken wings are scattered across the living room carpet... I fear the carpet will never be white again... why they are there, I shall probably never know.. I wonder how someone gets mercurochrome out of suede?... that IS mercurochrome, right?... dayum...

... after seeing this house of iniquity and vice, I need a drink... DAMMIT!.. some sorry bastard has stolen my Scotch... shit, the vodka's gone too... that's just mean-spirited... there is no beer in the fridge either... no food in the cabinets... why are all these dead C batteries scattered everywhere?... why is the floor sticky in here?... why are there 14 messages on my answering machine from Candy, Buffy, Bambi, Angel, Melanie, LaTiesha, Neal, and Bob?... who the hell are they, and how'd they get my number?... and, why are they all saying that they were "glad to have cum".. and, "they'll be back next weekend, Master.."...

... what the hell is that trail of ants doing meandering towards the bathroom?... oh, no... I guess I'd better check it out... good GOD, what a sight... I could have sworn the wallpaper wasn't yellow in here before we left... someone is a nasty motherfucker... the handle on the toilet is broken... and, the commode is full of shit... whoa, what is THAT?... damn...a soggy mixture of corn and jalapeno seeds has nearly clogged the drain on the shower.... ain't no way in HELL I'm cleaning that out...

... it appears that after going on vacation, I now NEED a vacation...

... Acidman.... Velociman.... Geoffrey... you guys rock... you are as messy as fuck, but it looks like you had quite a party... once I get this place fumigated, steam-cleaned, and some industrial strength air fresheners hung, it will almost be like home again....

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Bejus!

Oh, man. My head hurts this morning.

My new lady friend and I had to abandon Eric's bed last night because we couldn't find a dry spot to sleep on. I woke up on the couch this morning with no lady friend and no money in my wallet. Looks like I'll have to steal borrow some of Eric's stuff and haul it to a pawn shop so I can buy a bus ticket home.

I'm sorry about the couch, too, Eric. I told you before that I sometimes have accidents in the night. I really didn't mean to piss all over the cushions, but I was dreaming about being in a bathroom at the time. Don't worry about it, because I am certain that the stench mildly offensive odor will go away in a month or so.

I staggered off to the bathroom and discovered that Geoffery had dropped by while I was passed out asleep. That bastard NEVER flushes, and he left a steaming pile of crap in the commode. I was appalled. I was grossed out. I couldn't go near that nasty monument to pure insensitivity, so I left the commode as I found it and took a dump in the bathtub.

But it'll be okay by the time you get back, Eric. I left the hot water running in the shower.

Hmmm... I wonder if Geoffery lifted my money?

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Orgy at Eric's!

I took the liberty of inviting some slatterns exotic dancers from the Mouse's Ear over for a party. I hope SWG doesn't mind.

As this is a theme event I selected the following attire:

For Goeff, something airy, and comfy:


For Acidman, something that fairly screams Slaveboy, albeit in very muffled tones:


As Master of Ceremonies I, of course, will be wearing this Mexican ceremonial dance mask:


Just in case I have to ward off any Chiapan machete-wielding party-crashers.

I'm pretty stoked. Scenes like this often result in what the psychiatrists call psychosexual paradigm shifts. We shall see. We shall see.

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by | Permalink | Bullshit(4)
» Gut Rumbles links with: guest blogging

Straight White Guy?

So, I was poking around "Eric's" home today and found some interesting things. After compiling the information, I think perhaps the name of this blog is misleading.

I found THIS, THIS, and THIS.

He's pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. I'm changing the name of this blog to GAY BLACK GIRL.

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Shit at home you bastards!

I seldom blog from work. I mean really seldom. So seldom I can't think of a single time that I've done it. In fact, I'm rarely AT work for longer than an hour or two in the morning. I then spend the rest of the day bouncing around the great state of Massachusetts. Today is an exception, though. I'm here, and I'm finally fed up.

Now I understand that everyone has a different schedule. Some people shit when they wake up, some after their morning coffee, some just shit all day. In fact, you sort of plan your day around it. There's just some places you don't want to shit. There's also some places I don't want you to shit. This doesn't apply to everyone, only some of you. Actually, just one person in particular.

That nasty bastard that shits every fucking morning while I'm in my 8am meeting then doesn't flush. I'm going to skip that meeting one day, just to catch you. I'm going to grab you by your geeky little neck and stick your head in the toilet while I show you how to flush. I'm going to take your pocket protector and shove it so far up your ass I won't have to worry about looking at your shit for a week. I'm going to stand all those bastards that use the bathroom AFTER you and don't flush FOR you against the wall so they can see what they're in for. Who the hell told you it was ok to just leave your boys at the pool when your done?

I'd hate to see your house. Do you flush at home? Where the fuck did you learn such behavior? I swear to God I'm going to catch you in the act now. When I do, you're done. All done. You'll never shit at work again.

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Dear eric

My new friend and I found that box of "toys" you keep in the nightstand next to the bed. We played with them and had a wonderful time. I suggest you buy some new batteries for that two-pronged, vibrating wonder-wand. I also suggest that you run the ben-wa balls, the butt-plugs and the bull whip through the dishwasher before you use them again.

You don't know where they've been.

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A Conundrum

Geoff claims Eric's blog is broke. I sense more sinister forces at work. Perhaps an Islamofascist hostage-taking of a user ID password, a password being one of the few things an Islamo can successfully debate.

As my guestblog posts historically draw either 1) no comments, due to querulous disdain, or 2) rage and calumny, due to righteous indignation, I feel it is imperative to get some Dog Snot up here to counter-balance the Gutdribbles.

Persevere, Geoff. Perhaps it was a momentary glitch.

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Barter

Heh! The Velociman couldn't find the single-malt scotch. Of COURSE he couldn't. I'm not supposed to drink that stuff anymore, so I stole it and traded it to some bearded hillbilly down the road for two quarts of moonshine. (I like the people here where Eric lives.)

Of course, I'm not supposed to drink moonshine anymore, either, so I traded the shine for a whole fried chicken and some home-canned pickled okra made by a very sweet black woman I encountered. She had a very attractive young neighbor, who professed to LOVE fried chicken and pickled okra. I offered another trade and she accepted.

Eric, I'm sorry about the sheets on your bed.

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A marine story

The US Marines-- the Few, The Proud--- and home to a few really crazy people.

I once lived in a one-bedroom duplex home on Hibiscus Avenue in Savannah. The guy who lived in the other half of the duplex was named Bob, and he was fresh out of the Marine Corps. He and I became friends and drinking buddies, but it wasn't long before I realized that Bob had a problem.

Maybe you've met the type before. Sober, Bob was one hell of a nice guy. But when drunk, he morphed into a complete asshole. As if that wasn't bad enough, Bob got shitfaced on two beers, but usually continued drinking for hours after that. When he reached the point where he started quacking like a duck (I am not making that up--- when Bob was about to hit the Vanishing Point, where all his brains flew out of his ass like a flock of honking Canadian geese--- he started quacking like a duck.)

Maybe he did that because he couldn't talk anymore without drool running down his chin. Whatever his reasons, when he was too drunk to walk, talk or do anything other than quack, he was ready to fight.

He usually found a fight, too, and got his drunken ass wiped every time. After the third time I bailed him out of jail for that shit, I told him, "Bob, that's the last time. If you do that again, you're on your own." I never bailed him out again, although he did go back to jail more than once after that.

Bob worked at the Hunter Army Air Field sewage treatment plant. Once, he brought home a truckload of processed sludge from the plant. "This is deactivated Ranger shit," he told me proudly. "That's the finest shit in the world. Spread some on your plants and see what happens."

I have to admit that it was some powerful shit. I had cherry tomatoes and little corn stalks poking up from every flower bed in my yard. Bob used his sludge to fertilize a marajuana garden, right there in the back yard, that produced plants taller than I was. He never got caught for that, and nobody ever ripped the place off, which amazes me to this day, because he ran tours every time somebody came over to visit. "Hey! Y'all come look at my pot garden. Awesome, isn't it?"

Bob worked shift-work and was pulling midnights one hot summer day. He was trying to sleep when some little 15 year-old juvenile delinquent on a motorbike with no muffler kept roaring up and down the street making a noise fit to wake the dead. Bob walked on on his front porch and shouted at the kid, in his typical diplomatic fashion. "Listen, you little turd. If you don't take that fucking bike somewhere else, I'm going to come out there and shove it up your ass!"

The kid ignored him and made another pass in front of Bob's place. Bob picked up a cinder block, ran out into the street and threw it at the boy. It hit the back wheel of the bike and sent the kid ass over teakettle down the road. The boy said, "I'm coming back with my brother!"

"You can come back with your shit-eating DADDY for all I care," Bob replied. He then went and sat on his porch. He also started drinking beer. He was on about his third beer when a car pulled up in the street and the juvenile delinquent hopped out. "That's HIM!" he cried, pointing an accusatory finger at Bob. Big Brother stepped out on the driver's side.

"Did you throw a cinder block at my brother?" he asked.

"Quack, quack," Bob replied.

I don't know all the gory details of what happened next, but Bob and Big Brother ended up in a tussle right in the middle of the street. Somehow, Big Brother produced a bow saw from the car, got Bob in a headlock and started working on him with that saw like a Mexican gardener trimming hedges. Bob was wearing only a pair of gym shorts at the time.

I saw Bob the next day and he looked as if he had been the victim of a shark attack. He had BIG, serrated cuts all over his back, sides and arms. He was lucky that he didn't get his throat cut. "What the hell happened to you?" I asked.

"Quack, quack," he replied, offering me a beer. I told him thanks, but I had to go. He moved to Richmond Hill shortly thereafter and I saw him only once after that. He was shitfaced drunk in a bar and starting to quack. I got out of there right away.

Bob died in a car wreck a few years ago. I suspect that he was drunk and quacking when he tried to fight that tree and got his ass whipped for the last time. Now, he's saying Semper Fi in the sky.

Crazy Bob. No offense, Eric, but he was the most interestine ex-Marine I've ever encountered.

(Posted by guest blogger Acidman)

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Avast!

Yes, I almost feel bad about that previous post. But Eric knows that my first post as a guest blogger anywhere is always an excoriation. A shot across the bow. That's what makes it so much fun. Shall I speak of the trepidation with which he handed over the keys? I could almost smell the fear.

I tried to give Rob the opening salvo, as he said at 1:30 he was coming for a visit. That was thirty minutes before his bedtime, however, so I knew I must shoulder the burden.

I cannot find the single malt. I thought there was an unwritten agreement, a thang, that Eric would give me provenance over his fine liquors. I am dismayed. Almost as dismayed as I am over his posters. Where he found the nude Olsen twins is beyond me, but I like it. He could lose the Robby Benson, though. The nude Robby Benson. The naked Avril? Oui! The nekkid Whoopi? Non!

Hey. I never promised I would have anything intelligent (or, sadly, intelligible) to say. I'm space fodder. Be happy I'm filling the ems and ens.

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Get This Party Started...


Well, the first thing I usually do as a guestblogger is to poke around the place. Stick my nose where it doesn't belong. Get the lay of the land.

I had no idea what a filty pig Eric is.

Here is a pile of empty Scotch bottles, arranged in Stonehenge fashion, atop a spread of Salisbury Steak TV dinner cartons. Next to that is a stack of Victoria's Secret catalogues. I would need a blowtorch to open the pages they are so cheesed up. Hold on while I don my rubber gloves.

Into the boudoir: A kilt with the ass cut out. A believe the tartan is from the O'Reacharound clan. Nasty stuff.

A sporran hanging on the bedpost. Let's take a look inside: Three dryrotted condoms, a box of Chicklets, a ticket stub to a concert by some fellow named Timberlake. A few grass clippings. A nasal strip.

This looks to be more difficult than I thought. Perhaps a Mr. Wolf call. Maybe Acidman can help me tidy up a bit if he stops in. In the meantime Semper Fido.

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Handing over the Keys...

... right now... as I sit here with my morning coffee... I am on vacation... heh.. did you hear that?.... VACATION.... it is my first week off in ages, people... I just had a nice bagel with cream cheese for breakfast... the Wife is asleep.... Patton is waiting in the DVD player for later this afternoon... life is all around me, and I'm going to taste some of it... but, I have to confess... I am not going away... I am entertaining... we'll be heading off to Scotland to visit the Outlaws soon enough... most likely in September/October.. but, right now... I am preparing to be visited by an old Marine Buddy.... and, of course, his lovely Wife... all the way from Chugiak, Alaska...

... what is laid on?... well, a buxom young Haggis from New Jersey has been ordered... and, thanks to Jimbo for the pointer, by the way... also, the obligatory engraved whisky tumblers... fresh from Scotland... the City of Brechin, actually... Mike Ferguson comes through, yet again.... see, whenever I meet up with the Auld Crew from the Corps... I purchase us all ceremonial Scotch tumblers... engraved nicely with the place of meeting.. month... and, year of the fiasco.... just so we can all remember the occasion... small things, really.. but, meaningful things.... I began this little tradition in 1997... in Boston... Absent Friends... and, I keep it alive today.... June 2004... Etowah, Tennessee... the last time.. it was July 2002... Anchorage, Alaska.. I'm steadily amassing quite a collection of fine Scotch glasses, and memories...

... to say that I am looking forward to their visit would be a understatement of Biblical proportions.. they arrive Monday afternoon... just in time to grill some steaks... Tuesday, we'll have lunch at the Bistro on the Tellico River... drinks, guitar, and friends will be arriving to meet my old Buddy and his wife in the afternoon... the deck will get much use, I'm sure... Wednesday will find us traveling to Chattanooga... visit the Choo Choo for lunch, then the Aquarium... afterwards, off to the bar at the Clarion until time for dinner on the Southern Belle riverboat.. in the morning-after, we'll tour the Chattanooga/Chickamauga National Battlefield... I had relatives who fought at Missionary Ridge in blue AND gray... (Velociman has recommended that I read up on my Shelby Foote before setting off, and I'm taking his advice... I'm going outside to the deck with my coffee right now to do just that) ..... and, finally, home to the swimming pool, the blender, the drink mixer, and the pool table for the remainder of their trip... I'm stoked, people....

... so.. even though I told my three Blogheroes that they could commence on Monday... this is an invitation for them to begin whooping it up whenever they wish.. if they wish at all.. so... unless they decide to entertain you Rubberneckers... this blog is closed.. due to drunken interruption... until further notice.... my friends are coming... and, that is reason enough... I'm on vacation till the 14th... if anybody needs me, I'll be on the back porch reading Shelby Foote, another old Marine... and, remembering our Veterans on this 60th Anniversary of D-day...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(4) | SWG Stories
» Gut Rumbles links with: guest blogging

Reagan is Dead...

... what a sad day... I just read it over at Rob's place.... it is a strange shock to get your news from blogs... instead of radio or TV... Reagan was one helluva President... it is hard to believe he is gone....

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Saturday...

... I've waited all week for this time.... this day... strange, it is.... a week of toil endured just so I could sit in peaceful, quiet, caffeine-buzzed nekkidness in the blogroom... at this moment, this is Heaven on Earth..... why?... well, I'm not sick.. I have coffee.. the Sun is shining... the World is waking up...I have everything I need for survival at this moment... hell, I've heard a million quotes about "enjoying life"... I've heard it from survivors of combat... I've listened intently to accident victims while they told their tale... I've heard it preached by scholars, priests, poets, and bums.. they all have the same message... Enjoy Life...

... sounds easy, right?... well, people will tell you that it isn't... but, they are wrong.. it IS easy...

... driving to work on Friday, I heard a radio announcer ask if Toby Keith had "gone above his raising".... it seems that Mr. Keith celebrated, after receiving some damn award, by going out and having a meal.. accompanied by a two thousand dollar bottle of wine... gone above his raising?.. Fuck You... I'm sure Toby can speak for himself, but I shall utter this on his behalf... Fuck You, Buddy...

... I was brought up in an incredible environment.. loving family... not much money, but plenty of care, compassion, discipline, and love... we made our own way, and we enjoyed ourselves.. money did not bring us happiness... I was taught a lesson from early on, people.. enjoy the small things in life... some day, they may be all that you have...

... a spendthrift, I have never been... and, I will never be... if I want something, and I have the money, then it is mine.. I will buy it in a heartbeat... be it a box of fucking chocolates... picking up the tab at the bar... or, that bottle of special Single Malt that I've been lusting after for the past month.. see, here is the core, gentle ones... as long as I am fed, watered, have a place to sleep, something to drive to work, a job, ain't sick, have my bills paid, and, a little whisky in the cabinet... everything else is gravy... going above my raising?... every damn chance I get, you can bet your ass.... why?.... life is too damn short NOT to... treat yourself every chance you get... if you believe that the "finer" things in life are for the "rich", you are a fucking loser... you are as "rich" as you want to be... having "class" is a state of mind... not a birthright... buying a bottle of wine with your meal because it looks cool, is not what I am talking about... buying a bottle of wine because you know you will enjoy the hell out of it, is... money, be damned.. I have a goddamn magnet on my fridge that sums it up perfectly... "Life is too short to drink bad wine"

... no one else is going to make you happy... you have to do that yourself... people who accuse you of "going above your raising" are jealous, small-minded, deeply, deeply unhappy people... the marrow of life is as yet untasted by them, I'm afraid... Brother Zevon was right... "enjoy every sandwich"...

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For your Baby....

... give these to your Baby... and she'll love you forever... hey, I am a Thornton's fan.. but, you gotta get those bastards shipped all the way from the UK... Leonidas?.. well, they overnight them from Washington, DC... speedier delivery, children.. for when that chocgasm absolutely... positively... HAS to be delivered overnight... word up, Men.. they work....

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Gotcha!...

...sleep well, my friends... the streets of Toledo are safer today.....

(Mayfield Heights-AP) -- Police in Mayfield Heights say they have arrested a man suspected of stealing women's underwear from apartments.

For years someone has been breaking into apartment buildings in the Cleveland area and swiping underwear, most often panties.

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Marines at Normandy...

.... In the run-up for the 60th Anniversary of the Allied landings at Normandy, Blackfive asked the Milbloggers to tell some personal stories about people we knew who were involved... but, none of my family were present during the invasion... my Grandfather was indeed in the US Army, but he arrived a few weeks later.... he has told me many stories about the courage, sacrifice, and hard-times that he and his mates had crawling through Belgium... and France.... in the end, he was captured... early in the morning of December 14th... wounded and freezing in the Ardennes snow... manning his 81mm mortar with his section... during the Battle of the Bulge... Stalag 12A was his final destination... weighing 196 pounds when coming ashore in June.... and... 98 pounds when the Russians liberated his camp... that was my Grandfather....

... the rest of my family served in either the US Marines, or Navy... Great Uncle J.R. was not too far from the flag when it was raised over Suribachi... Great Uncle Rob was a Seabee on Peleilu.. Great Uncle George was an Army cannoncocker for Macarthur... and, so the list goes... all Pacific Theatre..... but, when it comes to Europe... there is only Grandpa.... so, I thought that I would focus this post in a slightly different area... D-day being one of the US Military's Finest Hours.... I immediately asked myself... as one tends to do.... "where were the Marines?"...

... as it turns out, while researching this per Blackfive's request, I have found out about quite a few incredible individuals that I hadn't heard about before.... and, yes... there were a few Jarheads present during the landing at Normandy.... the Naval armada during the invasion was incredible... ships as far as the eye could see... all manner of ships... military, and civilian..... and, among the Capital ships, the cruisers normally had at least 80 Marines onboard to man their 5-inch guns... and, among the battleships, a cadre of 200 Marines.... so, yes... some of my Brothers were indeed there during the Allied penetration of Europe... but, also... Marines were present in the planning of Operation Overlord... most notably, General Harold D. Campbell, USMC.... he was an advisor to the British Staff of Combined Operations... he was awarded the Legion of Merit for his help in planning the amphibious assault.... Marines had been landing troops by sea in some of the bloodiest battles on the Pacific... so, their grim expertise was put to good use...

... one of the Men that I had a chance to read about in my quest for ETO Marines, was Col. Peter J. Ortiz, USMC... he wasn't at Normandy.... but, he was one of 51 US Marines who served with the OSS in Europe... seriously... follow this link, and read the whole page... he was one impressive Legionnaire AND US Marine... and, this article tells of various USMC exploits in the ETO... including D-day.... hearing of USMC sharpshooters during the invasion.... climbing onto the highest point of their ships, and exploding surface mines with well-aimed rifle fire... well, that just harks back to the Birth of the Corps.. quadrafoil and all... but, back to my point...

... the Men of D-day were all together... back then, we were all together in this.... putting the skills of Soldier... Sailor... Air Corpsman... Coast Guardsman... civilian.... and, Marine...to good use... the brotherhood of a common cause welded them together... and, a beach was taken, people.... the valor... and, sacrifice... of those incredible Human Beings that day.. well, it is an example to us all...

... so, on this 60th Anniversary of the Invasion of Europe... I would like to thank all of the people involved... if you had failed... if you had lacked the courage... we would not be here today... living as comfortably as we are... thank you... you are remembered...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(5) | Military Stuff
» BLACKFIVE links with: The Sixtieth Anniversary of D-Day
» Marine Corps Moms links with: Marines at Normandy
» :: digital-marine :: links with: Marines At Normandy?

You big Chicken...

... ever been called that?.... heh... well, I never actually thought it was true... man, those chickens were CHICKEN...

"A farmer in western China has sued police after a squad car siren scared 435 of his chickens to death.

The siren, which was being repaired, went off just 10 metres from the chickens at the farm in Huxian, Shaanxi province.

Thirty five of the birds died on the spot and another 400 died later of shock, says the Procuratorate Daily newspaper.

A court ordered the police to compensate the farmer for the 35 chickens that died first, but said it couldn't be proved they were to blame for the other deaths."

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(8) | Psycho Rants
» Undercaffeinated links with: Poor bastards

Wednesday Poolfest, yet again...

... well, children... time is here once again... and, let me tell you... it ain't looking good for the home team... Steve the Biker Dude was talking shit all day at work about how good he was gonna do tonight... and, The Closet Extremist is talking shit on his friggin BLOG about how he was sandbaggin' last time, and how he's gonna whip ass tonight.... so, I might just end up watching tonight... then again, maybe I'll find my lost mojo and surprise THEM.. hell, either way, it gives me a chance to enjoy a Wednesday shooting pool...

... as usual, I will post the results later tonight... or, first thing in the morning if I survive..... so, later, you rubberneckers....

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Damn...

... William Manchester has died... Goodbye Darkness, indeed...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(1) | Military Stuff
» Snugg Harbor links with: Passing the Torch

Liberals in Greenland..

... you have to admit... their heart was in the right place... cold outside?... find a nice warm place, settle in.... and, have a drink.... but, this still sounds strange...

COPENHAGEN (Reuters) - A member of Greenland's local parliament charged with breaking into a hotel and stealing liquor will plead "self-defense" because it was cold outside, national KNR radio reported on Friday.

Jensine Berthelsen of the liberal Atassut party said she had had to force her way into the hotel in the west coast town of Sisimiut. "It was cold and there was no other way to get in," she told the radio

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For LeeAnn...

... the Cheesymomma herself has been feeling poorly... I've been horribly remiss, too..... see, I've been waiting for devine inspiration to write a wonderfully moving tribute to her.. you know.. as a "get well" present... I know she shares my love of Warren... but, I've been in a Zevon drought for some time... my Cousin stole borrowed my Zevon CDs... anyway.. today... manna from Heaven, people... fell right in my lap... so, LeeAnn... here is a story that should cheer your wee heart... a story of Cheese... alone... cold.. hungry... just fighting to get back home where they are loved... Get well soon, babe... you know we all love ya....

... so, without further hesitation... the story..... I came home from work today.... tired... to find the Wife cleaning out the refrigerator.. as I walked into the kitchen to pour myself a large Macallan, she looked up.... with a doleful glare befitting an Irish Washerwoman... and, from her knees, she said...

"Do you remember that Extra Sharp Vermont Cheddar we bought a few months ago?..."

"...of course... it was yummy... why?"...

"... well, I just found it in the back of the fridge... I think it was trying to get back to Vermont... and, it had crawled to the back of the fridge looking for an exit..."

... says I, "HAHAHAHAHA!!!... that's funny..."... trying to hide the secret disgust I had that dairy products were decaying in the back of our refrigerator....

"...well, if you think that is bad.... do you remember that Greek meal you cooked a while back?... well, evidently, we had some Feta left over....."

"...good God, woman.... you have got to be kidding me..."

"...nope... it had actually evolved enough to have eyes and a mouth... it said something to me.... but, it was in Greek, of course... it may have been heading back to Greece.... anyway.... so, I just chucked it in the garbage compactor.... ever hear a Greek squeal?"...

"... uh... no... who do you think I am?... Velociman?"

".... well, it ain't pretty...."

... true story, folks... so, now that I have exiled myself to the blogroom... which, is totally free of decaying dairy products.... I just thought I would share... after all.. that's what this whole blogging deal is about.... sharing?.. right?... oh, and by the way.... the Greek meal was cooked on MARCH 28th.. dayum...

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Joke of the Day...

Three desperately ill men met with their doctor one day to discuss their options. One was an Alcoholic, one was a Chain-Smoker, and one was a Homosexual.

The doctor, addressing all three of them, said, "If any of you indulge in your vices one more time, you will surely die."

The men left the doctor's office, each convinced that he would never again indulge himself in his vice. While walking toward the subway for their return trip to the suburbs, they passed a bar.

The Alcoholic, hearing the loud music and smelling the ale, could not stop himself.

His buddies accompanied him into the bar, where he had a shot of whiskey. No sooner had he replaced the shot glass on the bar, he fell off his stool, stone cold dead.

His companions, somewhat shaken, left the bar, realising how seriously they must take the doctor's words. As they walked along, they came upon a cigarette butt lying on the ground, still burning.

The Homosexual looked at the Chain-Smoker and said, "You know if you bend over to pick that up, we're both dead."

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